Whatever the heart wants
by Pascalyne
Summary: Dean and Jo love each other but they are not ready to tell Helen... Obviously. And Dean is not ready to tell Sam, although he has no clue why. And then there is this Rugaru hunt... Sometimes to make sure our heart gets what he wants, we have to make compromises!


**Whatever the Heart Wants**

**1/Don't tell**

Jo grabbed her man's hair with her fist and pulled firmly, he roared loudly. The smirk on his face was everything she needed right now. She was straddling him, accelerating the back and forth movements every time she planted a kiss on his lips. She knew he liked that; she could feel it too!

Dean kept looking at the door. Jo was pinning him on the chair, and he loved it. He loved feeling her skin shiver under the stroke of his fingers. Right now, they were lingering under her shirt, up and down her back. She was not wearing any bra, she was kissing him, she was pulling his hair, just enough to make him hold his head back. She… The door! Dear opened his eyes and stared back at the door.

He loved Jo, that much was sure to him. He felt good thinking about her, being with her, in her. He did not love the idea of Ellen finding out, though. And Sam neither as a matter of fact.

Well, Ellen he knew why. She did not want a hunter's life for her daughter and all he could offer was a hunter's life. He could not help but thinking that was the reason why Jo jumped him in the first place. The reason he let her do was the exact opposite. Sometimes he would imagine a future with her, one with monsters and blood but also with a house to come home to. He knew that would never happen, but with Jo, at least, he could sort of imagine it.

As for Sam, he was not sure why he felt compelled to hide it from him. Sam had seen him with women before, on purpose or not. So why not let him know about Jo? The idea of not hurting him kept pushing in the back of his mind.

The door, Ellen, Sam, nothing was important anymore right now. Jo had pulled his swollen dick out of his jeans and entered it in her wet vagina. Her moan made him kiss her. Her tongue was surprisingly docile. He enjoyed playing with it and enjoyed even more when he understood her straddle was picking up the pace of his tongue.

Dean felt Jo was about to come. Her limbs became tense, her back was quivering. She released her tight on his hair, pulled out of their kiss and threw her head in his neck, moaning. He loved to hear the sound of her come. This moan landed in his heart every time. It made him come. He wondered for a second if he would ever be able to come again without hearing it.

They stayed there, immobile, in silence for a while. Dean broke the moment of bliss to plant a kiss on Jo's forehead.

"I love you," he surprised himself but felt a wave of relief invading him once the words got out of his mouth.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," they both chuckled and started kissing again.

The sound of the car door slamming outside made them spring apart and awkwardly stand in opposite directions. Dean quickly buttoned his jeans and picked up the broom next to him, threw it to Jo. As Ellen entered, Dean was leaning against the bar and Jo swiping by the pool table.

"What's up with you two?"

Ellen hardly had to look at the two kids to notice how awkward they looked. She decided not to think anything of it at the moment. She knew she would have to at one point, but not now. That was a little too much for her.

"Sam's not here?" She asked.

"Why would Sam be here? he was with you." Jo's question was free of any double meaning. Dean on the other hand was absolutely taken back, if Sam was not with Ellen, maybe he saw them. Maybe he knew about him and Jo. Why was it bothering him so much?

"He told me he would come back on his own. We split before I went to the supermarket,"

Dean walked toward Ellen and took the grocery bags she was holding. He tried to act as normal as he could, but Jo read right through him. She was just not sure if he was afraid to tell her mother or his brother. She found herself hoping Dean was scared of her mother's reaction.

Jo went to help Dean put the grocery away. He was stacking packs of cheap coffee in the cupboard above the sink. The kitchen was off limits for the customers of the Roadhouse, but the brothers had been more than customers for some time now.

She grabbed a pack of coffee and leaned toward Dean, raising her arm to put the pack next to the others. Their hands touched. She dropped her pack and took Dean's hand, gently. He locked his fingers with hers.

Jo placed her mouth so close his ear that he could feel the heat of her breath and softly whispered that she loved him too.

"You wouldn't believe what I'd be able to do for you." She said confident. She looked in his eyes and loved what she saw. He did love her.

Sam opened the main door and did not say a word. No one asked where he had been. Ellen knew the kids had to clear their heads every now and then. Dean and Jo knew to poke at the truth as little as possible.

**2/ Ellen knew**

The sun had hardly risen, Ellen was already looking through the article cuts, taking notes of the information that would help her convince the hunters to take the job.

She was not sure she was thinking straight, all she knew was that she needed to get them out of there. She could feel she was losing Jo. Dean was a good boy, and he clearly loved her. Ellen knew what would happen if she did not put a stop to this now. There was no way she would let Jo have the same life as her. She knew her daughter, just like her, would choose love over life and would be lost in a life of pain and fright.

Sam entered the room and nodded carelessly before helping himself to a coffee.

"I found a case in New York, looks like a rugaru. You want it?" Ellen was trying to seem as detached as possible.

Sam welcomed the idea of a new case. Being stranded here was slowly killing him. And feeling Dean escape him was even more torment.

"A kid saw his father eat the baby-sitter before fleeing away and…"

"We'll take it!" Ellen was relieved that Sam jumped on the case. The next part of her "saving my daughter" plan might be trickier: make sure Jo was not there when the boys would go.

Ellen decided to trust her guts feeling that Sam was on her side.

"Jo and I will go and do some more grocery, this morning."

"We'll be gone before you're back," well, he was on her side.

Sam tried not to think of the reason why Ellen wanted them out. He took the opportunity and left it to that.

Sam was packing his bag when he woke up Dean by throwing a pair of socks straight in his face. Dean opened his eyes surprised and lied on his back trying to completely wake up. He threw the socks back at his brother.

"Common, we've got a case in New York. A rugaru, apparently." No answer. Dean was obviously taking the information in and trying to decide what to do with it.

"OK," he said while jumping out of bed to grab his duffle bag. He did not want to leave Jo, but he knew his brother needed the distraction. And he longed for the action.

"Where are Ellen and Jo?"

"Out shopping," Sam hoped Dean would not insist or he would most likely realize he had waited until Ellen and Jo had left to wake him up.

"OK, ready in 5." Dean went to the bathroom.

Dean parked Baby in the filthy underground carpark of the crappy hotel they had picked up. He did not like big cities that much, they were full of monsters and freaks. On top of the things they used to hunt. New York was the crappiest of them all, the rats alone!

Up in the tiny and dirty hotel room, Dean listened to the info Sam had collected. It was a rugaru alright.

"Let's go meet the kid," Dean was on the threshold of the room, ready to go.

"Mom, you've got to let me go, I'm not a kid anymore!" Jo was looking her mother straight in the eyes, defiant.

"Joanne Harvell, you will go where I tell you to go and nowhere else!" Ellen knew she had lost the argument already. Her last sentence had no effect whatsoever on her daughter.

"OK," she conceded, "They're in New York."

Jo turned around, bag in her hand and took the car keys on the bar counter.

"Jo, be careful, will ya?" Jo nodded and left.

"They grow up so fast."

"Shut up, Ash." The scruffy man awkwardly turned his body around and proceeded to fall back asleep on the pool table.

Back in New York, the boys had confirmed the rugaru hypothesis as the kid explained in detail how his daddy had transformed into a monster when he started eating nanny Betty.

After further interrogation of the mother, they managed to get out of her that her beloved Jimmy was not the father of the kid. The mother's apparent and obvious guilt was somewhat toned down by the sight of the two FBI agents smiling and sighing in relieve.

The agents then proceeded to inspect the house. Dean was making his way along the corridor full of family pictures, toward the parents' bedroom. He could not help but relate to the poor guy. He was living as normal a life he could, and it turned into sheer blood and despair. This is what he was offering Jo.

He had nearly reached the room when his gut attracted his attention to a picture on the wall.

The frame was older than the others, dark red color and the picture was black and white. A man and a boy were standing in front of a plain suburban house. The man looked enough like the pictures he saw of Jimmy Grimes to believe this might have been his father. The boy looked nothing like Jimmy's "son". Another proof they would not have to kill the boy. Dean smiled.

The two people in the picture did not smile. In fact, the expressions they had on their face made Dean sad all of a sudden.

When Dean went back to the living room Sam was already there. The younger brother discretely signed "no" with his head to signify his search was a bust. Dean quickly showed the frame he was holding in the hand before handing it to the widow.

"Is this your husband on the picture?"

"Yes, with his father. It was taken a little before his father killed his mother."

"Sorry?" Asked Sam.

"Jimmy didn't like to speak about it, all I know is that his father went crazy and killed her mom while he was asleep in his room. And, the same night his father was killed by some sort of bounty hunter," she swallowed loudly, "That's why Jimmy was raised by his aunt in the city," she paused thoughtful, "Not sure why he insisted on having this picture up on the wall… maybe because it was the last happy memory of his childhood…"

Dean had a faint smile at the thought she believed there was anything happy around this picture.

"Where's the house?"

"Barnetown, New Jersey."

The brothers decided to wait until morning to check the house. They were beat, Barnetown was far, they just needed to regroup. Dean's words.

The car was stopped at a traffic light, another reason Dean disliked cities. Sam gathered all the courage he could find in himself and grabbed his brother's hand. He squeezed; eyes shut. He did not know what he was doing, he just seized the moment to let Dean know what he was feeling. He regretted almost instantly what he did.

"What the hell you're doing, man?!", Dean's voice drilled into Sam all the way to his heart. That was a valid question, what the hell was he doing? He shamefully removed his hand and the rest of the drive happened in an awkward silence.

As soon as the car was parked in the dark, smelly carpark, Sam jumped out.

"Going for a walk, need to clear my head."

"Yeah, you do that." Dean was angry, far more than he wished he was.

Upon opening the door of the hotel room, Dean's guts alerted him that someone was there. He left the lights off and reached for his gun. He turned around just in time to grab his assailant by the neck, push them toward the back wall, next to the bathroom door. He lifted his gun to plant it right on the petite head surrounded by blond hair, highlighted by the moon shine coming from the bathroom window.

"What the hell you're doing here?" before Jo could reply, his lips were on hers, his tongue forcefully trying to unseal them. She tried to resist, a little, but the gun still pushing on her skull made her surrender everything. She could feel the heat in her belly and the need to release it.

Jo unzipped Dean's jeans fast, held his dick in her too small hand. She understood she had some power over him, squeezed gently. The aroused hunter reacted by pushing the gun further into her temple. The heat spread to her inner thigh.

Dean removed his hand from her neck and used it to undo Jo's shirt. He tried to be gentle at first, but his needs took the best of him and the buttons flew fast. No bra… the little minx knew what he liked… he could hold both her breasts in his hand, massaged them. He pulled out of her mouth. She battled to keep him in, even trying to hold his head with her free hand. When she understood what he wanted to do, she immediately regretted trying to hold him back.

Dean played around her swollen tits with his tongue, his teeth, his lips. Moving from one breast to the other. The unattended one resting in the palm of his hand.

He dropped on his knees and swept the gun away. His face was on Jo's crouch. He took a deep breath and removed the trousers fast, moved the tiny white undies on the side and looked for a second at the wet vagina, a drop was running down the short blond pubic hair. He dipped in tongue first, stroking the bone hard clitoris until he heard her moaning transform into soft grunting.

Jo pulled Dean's hair until he raised back up, planted her tongue in his mouth. She could taste her own arousal. It made her want him, uncontrollably. She wrapped her right leg around his waist, used her left leg to lever herself onto him. He grabbed her butt and held her tight while moving toward the bed. He sat, and let Jo find her place on his lap, his shaft deep inside her. Her movements on his penis were going faster, and stronger. Dean could feel his release coming. He was caressing her back, her breasts, kissing every part of her he could put his lips on.

Dean was about to come when the door slammed against the wall. Sam had forcefully pushed it wide open when he saw what was happening.

**Chapter 3: No, no, no!**

"Sam!" Dean screamed, while lifting Jo by the hips to drop her on the bed unceremoniously. Sam had gone already. Dean pulled up his pants and ran after his brother.

Dean finally caught up with Sam outside the hotel, caught him by the collar. Sam pushed him away and turn in the dark alley that led to the entrance of the underground carpark, home of baby for now.

"Leave me alone, Dean!"

"Sam, we need to sort this out!" Dean grabbed him by the coat. Sam turned around and hit him straight on the nose. The next strike was less of a surprise. Dean dodged it fairly easily and ran at Sam, headfirst. He rammed his shoulder in his brother's ribs and pushed him forward. When Sam's back collided with the wall, the shock made him bend forward, Dean felt his ribs push against his shoulder plates.

The big brother raised up and grabbed Sam's shoulders.

"Dean, I…" before he could say more, Dean had planted his lips on his mouth, forcefully pushing his tongue inside. Sam let everything go as soon as Dean entered his mouth. His body, his thoughts, his will, everything was Dean's right in this moment. And Dean took it all shamelessly. He pushed his knee up Sam's thighs to separate his legs and undid the buttons on his jeans. Dean was fast, efficient. Sam felt the heat in his belly invade him when his brother started thrusting on his hard dick. He tried to work up Dean's shaft through his jeans, but his brother violently shoved his hand away. Dean was in charge and Sam should have known better than trying to make a move.

Before he could try to touch him again, Dean had grabbed his brother by the hips and turned him around. Sam knotted his arms together above his shoulders and put them on the wall, buried his head in. He could feel his brother's finger going up and down his butt crack, they were wet, they were pushy. After the fingers entered him a few times, Dean, removed his hand. Sam raised on his toes, pushed his ass up so to make way for his brother. He felt something wet slowly running down his crack. As he understood his brother had spit in him, he got very aware at where they were and how familiar the dirt was somehow, as if they had been raised in it, and only the two of them understood what it meant. The smell of piss, the torn off bin bags everywhere around. The trash they were stepping in, everything was smelly and disgusting. And yet it felt so good. When Dean entered him, he lost it, closed his eyes and tried to feel every thrust. It was painful but good, gentle and deep. But mostly it was full of the feelings that none of them dared speaking about. Sam could feel his brother's breath on his neck, his cheek sunk in his hair, his heartbeat through the clothes, right under his shoulder plate. Both grunted loudly.

Dean came. He stayed still, inside his brother. His blurry mind analysing how clear and obvious this felt, like he had finally found his home, inside Sammy. It felt like minutes of bliss, it might have been seconds. The hunter suddenly became very aware of their surroundings. The people passing in the street a few feet away could definitely see them, or at least hear them. He pulled up his jeans and Sam's.

Sam had not moved. Dean had pulled up his brother's jeans but left them open on the swollen sex. He grabbed him by the waist and pulled him toward himself, planted a kiss on his neck. As Sam quivered, the burst of feelings in the elder's heart overwhelmed him. He did not care about the people in the street anymore. He took Sam's sex in his hand and started masturbating. All the "I-love-yous" that he wanted but could not say to his brother all these years found their way out, through his hand going up and down, through his fingers pressing gently, through his mouth kissing Sam's neck, hairline, ear, cheek, lips, any piece of skin he could reach. He did not care about anyone anymore as Sam came on the dirty wall, his hand and the sleeve of his jacket. He did not care about anything anymore. But he did care… about Jo.

The thought of Jo alone in that hotel room tore his heart. It made him sick to his stomach.

"Sammy," he said softly. "I know," replied Sam. Because he knew. He knew now that his brother loved him, but he also knew he loved Jo. And he would have to share. In fact, he wanted to share. After all, Jo could give Dean something he never could, hope.

The hotel room was empty, the only reminder of Jo being there was Dean's gun on the bedside table. Dean did not say a word, removed his jacket and shoes and threw himself on his bed.

Sam wanted to join him, but tonight was not the night they would spend in each other's arms. He lied on the other bed.

Dean parked the car around the corner from the middle-class suburban house. Happy to be left alone at the moment, he gladly accepted when Sam asked him to go to the house alone while he would do some research.

The house was old but well maintained, flowers surrounding the stairs to the entrance and a kid's bike carelessly thrown on the front yard lawn. It was inhabited. "Crap," whispered Dean.

"Hello, agent Kiedis, I have a few questions for you regarding the house," the short fake blond woman who opened the door seemed surprised but diligently let him in. The power of the badge over normal people never ceased to impress Dean.

The living room was modernly decorated but with cheap furniture, we were in the suburban middle class for sure. Dean winced painfully. He would take a stinky back-alley motel room over this anytime. For a second Jo appeared by the creamy white three-sitter couch, smiling. Or maybe not after all…

Dean sat on the couch and regretfully refused a much-needed coffee.

"How long have you lived here?", again, surprise did not seem to be reason enough to not answer to the FBI.

"'bout 4 years," she said. "And how about the previous owners?" "Oh, lovely couple, they built the house back in the 70's. I think the lady passed away a few years back, so he moved into an elderly facility. Very nice couple!" She nodded. Dean pouted. Looks like Jimmy had lied to his wife about his parents. But why?

"Although they did leave a few surprises around the house, you know… Ron – That's my husband, Ronald Wiesman – he had a lot of work on the roof, you know!" She waited, obviously expecting Dean to write down this important information on his FBI notebook. He closed the simile-leather cover of the small book with a faint thump.

"Yeah, I'm sure he did. Ok, thanks for everything…" "… And the smell in the shed, we simply couldn't get rid of it!"

Dean raised his eyebrows: "The smell?"

A few FBI words later, the hunter was alone in the shed. The smell was faint, but it definitely was there, and Dean knew it too much. The stench of putrefaction and death. He grew up in it, learned to live with it. He was so used to it that the explanation of a dead rat or possum would not even come to his mind in a million years. That was messed up, but hell, his life was messed up!

He looked around, and quickly found a trap on the floor under the backwall shelves. Four years in the house and they never noticed it. Civilians could be so clueless, it made him sigh in despair.

Dean moved the shelves and tried to open the trap. No luck. Plan B. He pulled his gun and proceeded to shoot open the rusty opening mechanism. The fact that the fire noise would scare the bland woman waiting outside the shed, did not bother him even for a second.

The stench came kicking. Dean exerted a disgusted snort and jumped down the hideout, gun first, ignoring the wooden steps on the side of the hole in the ground.

By habit, he was expecting the worst. The tiny low room did not disappoint. It was the size of the shed, empty and dirty, obviously. The origin of the smell also became obvious to Dean as he inspected further. Pieces of past rotten stage human, blood on the walls, the floor.

Dean did not expect to be surprised. All of that shit was too familiar to him. So, when he saw the ragged pile of human flesh and bones in the back of the room, surprise came biting his pretty face. His face was not fit for surprise, his grimace was ugly. He took a deep breath and shook it off, while closing on the heap of bloody and smelly fresh human rests.

Upon examination, Dean was confident there were teeth marks, but most importantly that the remains were at most 3 days old. It was not the work of the clueless middleclass family leaving in the house, that was sure. The only explanation was that Jimmy came back to the family house to stoke pile rations. And he had done so for some time now. Dean took a closer look to the other remains; they dated from years to a few days; some would be 30 years old or more. It would appear this might have been a family cellar of horror. Odd behavior for rugarus. Why not after all… "Not the craziest thing that'd had happened lately," thought Dean out loud.

Dean kept looking around until he found what he was looking for: another entrance. As there was no way anyone had used the hatch in the shed in years, there was definitely another entrance. Bingo! At the far end of the room, some planks of wood had been torn off and a small tunnel dug up in the dry dirt in the back of the shed, the exit was leading straight to the woods.

Dean thanked Mrs. Wiesman and headed back to the city. He called Sam from the car to ask if he wanted to be picked up. He really did not know if he wanted to be with his brother right know, but he figured they had to cross that bridge at one point and now was as good moment as any.

"'Not in the city, Dean."

"What d'ya mean, you're not in the city?"

"Had to run an errand, I'll be back later tonight"

"Sammy, what the hell?!" Sam had hung up.

Dean was torn between angry frustration and relief. He chose drinking. After he parked the impala in the underground car park, he made his way to the bar around the corner. A dive, his kind of place. Normally he would thrive in there, make a fuzz by the pool table, stuff his face with the greasiest burger he could find on the menu, shamelessly hit on the waitress. Not today. He sat on the nearest stool, dropped his forearms on the bar counter and nodded at the whiskey dusty shelf. The waitress understood and picked up the cheapest bottle and a shot glass. She put the glass on the counter and filled it to the top. As she was going away with the bottle, Dean grabbed her forearm.

"Leave the bottle, sweetheart," he had raised his head to look at her. His wry smirk made her feel sad.

Sam parked the car in front of the Roadhouse bar, closed at this time. He looked for other cars, there were none. Perfect! He ran to the side entrance of the badly maintained building and entered swiftly.

Jo was by the sink in the old bathroom. She winced in surprised when she saw Sam behind her.

"What d'you want?"


End file.
